Torment
by Esherymack
Summary: Overdue request filled to DarkKittehKat. Neah finally got to Allen. Allen finally snapped. He'll have those scars for the rest of his life... and everyone who sees him will pity his young life. Rated for LANGUAGE, GORE, SELF-MUTILATION, IMPLIED CHARACTER DEATH, more details inside. No yaoi; intended slight parental CrossxAllen. Yay, October! This works for Halloween, I guess...


**A/N: **Lol, I so owe this to DarkKittehKat XD She asked for Allen-whump a while back, and I couldn't think of anything ;-; So I had to put it off, and then I suddenly got THIS idea. Sorry, Allen-friends, he's in for some **torture :D**. So's Cross, I guess, mentally. You all know that I can't ever write a D. Gray-man fic without Cross in it~ :D

Sooooo… Let's get on with it XD First part's Allen's POV, second's Cross's POV. The normal text in the first part is Neah being mean to Allen :L Takes place after Cross told Allen about Neah, so mild spoilers for that chapter onwards (I forget the chapter number ;-; anyone can haz tell me?)

Rated M **for a REASON. **If you don't like **BLOOD**, **GORE**, **SELF-MUTILATION AND HARM**, **CURSING**, or **ANGST**, _**DO NOT READ AND COMPLAIN. **_**Also, since I can't write non-parentally things, this is slightly mama!Cross and Allen. It's NOT YAOI. And I still think Cross is alive. I just made the end like that to fit the story. XD**

Disclaimer: D. Gray-man belongs to Katsura Hoshino.

* * *

_He scowled to himself. _

_The exorcists… the exorcists hate his kind. _

_He's an exorcist._

_No, wait. He's a Noah. _

_Exorcist._

_Noah. _

_Exorcist._

_Noah. _

_exorcist?_

_noah?_

_exorcist noah_

_Allen rubbed his face with his Innocence. _

_No, now it's Neah's. Neah's Innocence._

_But, it was still his, wasn't it? It was still attached to his body. _

_He twitched his fingers. A small bead of blood welled on his forehead where one talon pressed too hard. _

_He lowered his hand to his face._

_His blood._

_His filthy-contaminated-dirty-foul blood. _

_Wait. Was it Neah's? Or was it Allen's? _

You're me. I'm you.

"_No, no, no, get away," he whispered to the darkness of his bedroom. _

Don't deny it. We're one and the same.

"_I said to get out," Allen whispered, drawing a shuddering breath._

I'm the only reason anyone cares.

"_Shut up. Get out, get out of my head," he muttered, louder._

Komui, Rouvellier, Hevlaska…

"_Get out!" Allen said, panic creeping into his voice._

Lenalee, Kanda, Lavi, Chaoji, Link…

"_Fuck off!"_

General Cross.

_Allen felt tears forming salty rivers down his face. _

Mana.

_Allen snapped._

* * *

It was the dead of night when a cold wail echoed through the halls of the Black Order. Most did not stir; many exorcists and finders suffered constant nightmares, and those who cared didn't hear.

Cross was one of the few who awoke. He was the only one who bothered to scramble out into the cold atrium-like corridors of the Order, where the night swirled with cold air. He grabbed a candle and hopped down the hallway, struggling with his boots. Timcampy drowsily fluttered alongside his head.

He knew that cry. The last time he had heard it, Allen had been twelve. It was the same sound that Cross had listened to for days, weeks, even, right after he'd picked up his idiot apprentice at a graveyard.

Allen's room was at the bend of the hallway. He nearly tripped upon reaching it, and grabbed the knob in his hand. It opened easily, and the door swung inwards, yawning darkness. Cross bent to pick up the dropped candle before it dripped hot wax onto the floor. The amber flame cast orange light over several objects in the room—a cast iron bed, a small table and a chair, and a painting of a clown on the wall. "Allen?" he tried. There was no response. He stopped walking, letting the sound of his footsteps die on the night. In the dreary silence, he heard a half-gurgling, half-rasping breath drawn from the corner of the room.

"Shit, Allen?!"

His apprentice didn't answer, and Cross stepped closer to see what was wrong with Allen. He took one look, and backed away in revulsion and fear.

Allen was sitting with his knees drawn to his chest and his mouth pressed against his arms. His skin was almost translucent in the seeking eye of the flame. Black blood had dripped down onto the floor, and bits of skin and muscle hung from is activated Innocence.

Four deep gash marks had plowed into his face, from the left of his forehead to the right of his chin. They hung open jaggedly, spilling more blood. Strips of muscle lay in tatters, revealing his cheekbone, the edge of his eye socket, and exposing the cartilage of his nose. His left eye was mutilated in its socket, and the sliced organ roved back and forth, seeking, but not seeing. The ends of his silver hair were dark and clumped with sticky blood. "Fucking Jesus Christ," Cross managed to whisper. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned and found himself glaring at a mirror. A dark shadow stood in it, inappropriate grin plastered on its face. It slowly faded from view.

Suddenly, Allen looked up. His lips were also torn, the shredded skin twisting into a cruel, manic smile. "I… killed… Neah," he whispered. "Neah's gone. I… scared him… and he left. Just like that… and I'm free."

Cross snarled under his breath. "There's a reason I called you an idiot all those years… I'm beginning to think you're more of a fool, Allen," he said sadly as he gathered Allen in his arms and rushed out of the room, where he made his way to find the Matron.

* * *

In the harsh white light of the infirmary, Allen's wounds looked even more gruesome. They had been neatly stitched where they could be—cauterized were they couldn't—and a lopsided bandage wrapped around his blind eye. The black thread that the matron had used stood out against the red, tortured edges of the cuts, and even more so against the paper-white of his blood-drained skin. Cross stared at him, worried, and horrified.

_He did this to himself? _

_Was he really that tortured by Neah? _

_God, what if I caused this? He was always so happy before I told him about Neah. _

_God dammit. It's my fault he did this._

_It's my fault he'll have these scars on top of the older ones. He'll have those for the rest of his life. _

_What if he dies? The Matron said that he'll be prone to infection. _

_Don't take him from me like this, God. If you have to take him, take him when I'm dead and gone._

His thoughts were running in circles. He vaguely registered several people coming by—Komui, Allen's friends (who his mind told him were Pissy Samurai Guy, Lenalee, and Rabbit-boy), even Rouvellier—but he didn't move to greet them or share words with them. He sat there, slumped in his seat, head tipped back against the wall and a hand on Allen's pallid one. At one point, the Matron came by and tapped his shoulder, pressing a hot cup of coffee into his hand when he stirred. Allen was still unconscious, pale and lightly breathing. His skin was less sallow, but the red gashes on his face were burned into Cross's mind. In his head, he still saw the bleeding, and the torn skin, and the exposed bone. In his mind, he still heard Allen's miserable, pitiful noises of pain that he had made as the Matron tended his wounds while Cross restrained him to the bed. In his memory, drifted snippets of conversation from long ago.

"_So, who do you think it'll be?"_

"_I don't know, Cross. Let's pray it's someone worthwhile. Someone who doesn't care about their lives. Someone that'll be easy for Neah."_

"_As long as it isn't some kid…"_

Cross rubbed his forehead, depositing the coffee cup on a side table.

_If Allen hadn't known about Neah…_

_ He wouldn't have resisted._

_ And this wouldn't have ever happened. _

_ He'd have just peacefully drifted away._

_Why is it that I care so much? I knew that this was coming. Why the __**fuck **__did I have to tell him?! _Cross scolded himself harshly. _He deserved to know. It is his body. It's his future. _

_He needed to know._

* * *

_He couldn't see. _

_burning pain filled his slumber with white fire._

_He stirred, and drew back when his movement caused his face to flare in pain. _

_Something touched his hand, and he carefully moved his lips. The coppery taste of blood flooded his mouth as he spoke around a dry throat. "Who… where am I? What happened?"_

"You're in the infirmary. It's December 14. You've been asleep for three days."

"_What happened?" he asked, worried._

"You attacked yourself. You scared Neah off for the time being. I presume he thought you were going to die and abandoned your body."

"_What?" His mouth protested. The right side was burning and felt tight. He ran his tongue over the inside corner, shuddering when he felt dead tissue and stitches. _

"Allen… Jesus, kid."

_Allen cracked an eye open. The light was too bright for a moment, and he hesitated, blinking drearily. His mentor sat next to him, staring vacantly, but mouth moving as he answered Allen's questions. _

"_W-what-?"_

_Cross put a hand behind his shoulder and sat him up, leaning him back against the pillows. Allen gulped down nausea. His stomach growled in hungry protest. He didn't feel like eating, though._

_Cross picked up a cracked mirror from the side table and held it out to Allen. _"Go ahead. Look."

"_I-"_

"Idiot boy. Do you think I'm not going to let this kind of thing go without punishment?"

"_I- no. You're right. I need to know what I've done."_

_He lifted he mirror and stared himself in his eye. His face was a stoic poker face for the time. He flicked his gaze to Cross._

"Look until I tell you otherwise."

_And so Allen stared. He took note of the red scarring. He took note of his destroyed eye and mutilated features. He set his gaze on the torn pentacle scar over his left eye. It hardly resembled a pentacle now, being more along the track of a few broken red lines._

_He looked. _

"You'll have those scars for the rest of your life."

"_I know."_

"But—"

"_But at least I'm free. That's the important thing."_

"Indeed. A large price to pay for freedom, though. Everyone will look at you and know something messed you up. And at this point, there's still a chance you'll die of an infection."

"_A large price indeed."_

_Allen closed his eye, feeling the sting of salt in his stitched wounds as a tear fell from his eye. He hung his head._

"_Master?"_

"Hm?"

"_Go sleep. I'll be fine."_

"Fine as in content, or fine as in alive?"

…

"_Fine as in alive. I shall never be content, though."_

"You don't blame me, do you?"

"_Why would I blame you?!"_

"If I hadn't told you about Neah…"

"_I wouldn't have done this?" _

"Exactly."

"_Please. Neah bugged me before. He just outright infuriated me after you told me."_

"_I'm grateful for that, Master."_

"Very well."

"_Go, now. Please. I'll be alive when you come back," Allen promised._

_If you come back, Master Cross._

* * *

Later that evening, General Cross was reported missing, and assumed dead. Hevlaska examined his Innocence, which promptly destroyed itself.

Nobody knows if it was murder or suicide.


End file.
